The overgrowth of objects loathed around holding prison to conform to my growing pains. It was death by execution that languished my growth held in chains. But my internal compass distinguishing what encompasses me angelically, till this day I live to love vigilantly. I’ve hit rock bottom and I bottomed out scrapping on scars that set the stones on top of bedrock. A foundation where I carefully criss crossed my T’s, and I incautiously questioned the misplaced eyes through the dots. I purposely place myself between sharp rocks and hard places to smooth out the rough patches under pressure that was hot to the touch. No whistling under pressure as nutritional ways of life got me in tip top shape, lifting up to that latch at the top notch place. I wore those weights that I wear all out, as I lived it out loud and I maxed it all out with clout. I’ve shaved the twine that bonded to bind me, and I won’t let the cords of crimson be the color I’ve shed to define me. The beauty is in the struggle and struggle is the part that brings that pain. The grief may be awful in the moment, but the grace that followed, brought me beauty that structured my funky parliament. Cos if there was nothing gained, then I was the misery that brought the company. It never lasts forever, so I cherish that type of weather, and stay clear from cloudy days of judgement. A forecast with the chance of rumbling that rolls with the thunder. And I’ll always remember, through the clouds I saw back in September, I see the sunshine warming up my wonders, and it’s fulfilling my plate out my window pane.